Tasper Britt rushed out from Files's tavern and stood on the porch. He had one of the papers in his hand. He ripped the paper to tatters and strewed about him the bits and stamped on the litter. He shrieked profanity. Then he leaped off the porch.
In the tavern yard was “Gid-dap” Jones's stage pung. Britt yanked the big whip from its socket and bounced across the street, untangling the lash.
“No, you don't!” bellowed Jones, getting in the way and making grabs at the whip. “Not with my own private persuader! Get aholt of him, men! Down him. Don't let him whale the representative we're going to send from the town of Egypt!”
That declared hint of what was afoot put the last touch on Tasper Britt's fury. He fought savagely to force his way through the men.
The voice of Usial checked the melee. He shouted with a compelling quality in his tone. As the man on whom they proposed to bestow the town's highest honor, he had already acquired new authority. The men loosed Tasper Britt.
“This is between brothers,” said Usial. He had stepped from his doorway. He stood alone. “What outsider dares to interfere?”
Tasper Britt employed his freedom promptly and brutally; he leaped along the avenue the men left for him and began to lash Usial with the whip. The stolid townsfolk of Egypt stood in their tracks.
“That's the best way—let 'em fight it out,” counseled Spokesman Jones. “Tasp Britt will get his, and it'll be in the family!”
But Usial merely tossed his big apron over his head and crouched and took the lashing.
“Isn't somebody going to stop that?” Vaniman demanded.